by K. A Knight
He sighed and smiled sadly before leaving. Waiting until he left the hut, I let go of Archel’s hand and I curled up on my side, closing my eyes.
“You can’t sleep forever,” he says softly, crouching next to me. “It won't make it go away, it will still be here when you wake up.”
“What would you know?” I mutter, but he obviously hears me.
“More than you would think,” he replies, making me freeze.
I crack open my eyes and watch as he leans back into his position next to the bed, the one he refused to leave. Closing my eyes again, I feel safe with him near. Thoughts of Evvie and Jago crowd my mind but I push them away, feeling too raw to even think about the men who hold my heart.
“You are healing well. You should be able to start moving around in a day or two. You need to go slow and have help, but it would be good to see you out of this bed,” Simon informs me softly, as he wraps the bandage around my thigh. I avert my eyes, staring at the bedding.
I had faked sleep whenever anyone else had knocked at the small hut’s door. Archel refused to let them in, instead he brought in their gifts for me. Some were weapons, some food, some clothing, and even a teddy bear. I refused to acknowledge them though.
“Thanks, doc,” Archel grunts as Simon straightens.
He nods and looks down at me, and Simon’s hand lands on my arm, making my eyes shoot to him as I freeze, panic clawing at my throat. I thought it would be worse, but I take deep breaths and concentrate on his face, on his caring, and the way he has nursed me back to health. He winces and removes the hand, looking guilty. “Sorry, just… think about it, okay?” he suggests gruffly, before turning and leaving me alone with my shadow protector.
“I need to wash,” I mutter, and I feel his shock at me speaking without him having to push me.
“Okay, I’ll go get the bucket—” He starts, we have done the same thing every day, or every time I start to feel their touch on my skin or think I can smell them on me.
“No, I want to wash myself. Is there a bath or a shower?” I ask, looking at the ground between us. My voice is so much better after not speaking for so long, but it still catches every now and again and breaks, but I can almost talk at a normal level now.
He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs and stands up, stopping next to me. “Yes, trust me?” he inquires and I look up at him, searching his eyes. When I nod, he leans down and gently lifts me into his arms. I bury my head in his chest and let him carry me. He slips out of the door and I shake at being outside in the open, but he walks quickly and when I peek out I gape at where we are. Looking over his shoulder I can’t help but notice the beauty of my surroundings.
The yellow and brown mountain towers behind us, with huts and houses dotted at the base of it and leading up the side. People bustle about, not paying attention to us. A large firepit, with a roasting section over the top, sits in the middle of camp. A dirt road leads away and between brownish looking trees. The first alive ones I have ever seen.
They aren't vibrant and green like the old pictures, more brown and greyish, but they are here. Lining between us and the rest of the world. It helps me relax for the first time since I woke up, and when Archel slides through their depths I turn my head to see where he is taking me.
Not five minutes away from camp, hiding from prying eyes, is a pond. Bigger than the gym in Paradise and filled with clearish looking water. Trees line it, shading it from the relentless sun. All I can think about is sinking into its depths and relaxing my sore and aching muscles.
“Let me down,” I beg.
“You can’t stand, hang on,” Archel replies.
He kicks off his boots before walking into the water, clothes and all. Gripping onto his shirt I gasp when the warm water hits my body. He doesn’t stop until he reaches the middle, and then he sits down with me in his arms until it reaches my chin.
Closing my eyes in bliss, I concentrate on the water as it laps against my body, carrying me away. He sits here and holds me for hours while I relax in his arms, for once not thinking.
“Are you ready to go back?” he asks, brushing my hair from my face.
“Not yet, just a bit longer?” I appeal, and he wraps his arms around me.
“Okay,” he agrees.
We sit there, just relaxing until I start to get cold, then we leave the water and head back to the hut. I’m asleep again before my head hits the pillow.
The next few days are a blur. In the morning Simon comes, and after checking me over he now sits next to me and talks about anything and everything. After the first couple of days, I start to respond. After that. Archel and I head to the pond and soak for a while.
I don’t even know how long it has been since my attack or what day it is, but my nights are spent in a cold sweat as nightmares cram into my head, sending me into a panic which I wake up screaming from. Archel is always there, ready to talk to me until I calm down.
During the day, my panic and shame have lessened until I can function. I still find I’m shy with new people and not wanting to be touched, but Archel and Simon seem to understand. I find my mind drifting more often than not to Jago and Evan. I miss them like crazy, and I wonder if they were told that I had died. It would make sense, the scene was carnage after all, and that's even if they venture that far into the Wastes to look for us. I know Jago will, but Paradise guards? Not so much. It pains me to learn that I turned a blind eye to the deceit and lies within the ranks and community I grew up in. I wonder if my parents knew, if that's why they left? Either way, I know I can’t go back. Not after everything, and even if I saw Jago or Evan again...I’m not the same Piper. I’m not Pip and I sure as shit am not Brawler. Turning over in the bed I bury my face in the pillow as tears come again.
I didn’t fight hard enough. Jago would be disgusted with me, he drilled me time and time again on what to do and I just froze. No, it’s for the best if I don’t go back—for them and for me.
I have a fresh start here amongst The Forgotten—because that is what I am, after all.
I hardly know Archel, I haven’t quizzed him like Jago or grown up with him like Evan. I don’t even know where he comes from or where he lives out here, or how he seems to know The Forgotten and Simon, but I know the important stuff.
No matter the hard front he puts on, he cares deeply, he just doesn't let people see. He must, or why would he save me? Why would he stay by my bedside and let my tears soak his chest? Why would he spend his days holding me in water just so I can escape my own mind?
No, I don’t know his past or present but I know his soul, and he will never be able to hide it from me again—but the same goes for me too. You can only cut as deep as you are willing to cut yourself. Wit, sarcasm, and jokes aside, he saw me at my darkest and at my lowest. He saw the center of me, and I will never be able to hide that from him. It creates a bond, an understanding. With one look at me, he can tell what I am feeling or if I am having a bad morning, and he just reacts. No words, they aren’t needed.
“You are healing really well, you should be able to walk properly on that leg now. You are lucky it didn’t tear anything. Just be careful and make sure someone is with you at all times. Take it slow,” Simon finishes, sitting back on the bed after checking my injuries.
My bruising has turned that horrible shade of green and yellow, and I look like a walking wound. My face isn’t as bad, the swelling started going down now, and I finally feel like I can see properly again, but it’s not the damage outside that are the worst. I hate the pity party I am throwing myself, it’s not like me, but I can’t seem to get out of it. What was done to me was horrendous, so vile that I can barely think about it, but most of the time it feels like it happened to someone else. Simon told me yesterday that it will take me awhile to fully heal, but when I do I will be stronger and better than ever, and not to worry because if we do, wounds fester. I don’t think he was talking about the ones that decorate my skin like a painting.
“How about I show you a
round the camp? Your shadow can come?” he offers, excitement in his eyes, and also hope. I can't bring myself to squish that again. He has been so welcoming to me, and even though I don't leave the hut except for the water, I hear his people and the laughter here. It does pique my curiosity, it’s slowly coming back with each day. Simon, with his gentle hands and gruff words, has wormed his way into my heart and I would hate to stomp on his kindness, even if the thought of going outside, of being around people again, terrifies me and sends a cold shiver down my spine.
“I will be at your side, always,” Archel promises, and I meet his deep blue eyes. It relaxes me and I blow out a breath before turning to Simon. I try on a smile and his eyes widen before he grins crookedly at me.
“Okay, thank you, I would like that,” I reply and he beams, before it turns into a belly laugh, shaking his whole frame.
“Girl, I wondered why that fucking assassin over there was following you around like a feral and shit, but that smile tells me all I need to know. If that is how amazing you look with that fake as shit one, I bet you’re a knockout with the real deal.” He leans forward and whispers like Archel isn't right there, and can’t hear him. “I can’t wait to see the real deal, come on. Get dressed. I will wait outside.”
He pats my leg and turns, leaving me with Archel. I don’t even flinch at his touch anymore. I would if anyone else does and the thought makes my throat begin to close until I can’t breath, but Simon pushed his way through that barrier and every time he does, I relax a little bit more. Maybe I’m not completely broken after all...just healing, like he said. What does that say about me though? Archel told me once that I was stronger than I realised, is he right? Or am I just weird? Should I still be curled up into a ball in this bed?
“What’s going on?” Archel asks, crouching next to me and tilting his eyes up to mine. I don't think he even realises he does it, makes himself smaller so he won’t scare me.
“Nothing,” I lie, as I shuffle to the edge of the bed and swing my legs over.
“Liar, come on Princess, share,” he pushes, and I roll my eyes knowing he won’t drop it.
“I dunno, I just… shouldn't I be completely fucked up beyond belief? Not laughing in here with Simon, or letting him show me around? Shouldn't I not be able to smile, shouldn't I be...broken?” I finish, looking at the floor.
He leans closer and tips my head back with a finger so I meet his eyes. “No. Everyone heals from trauma differently Princess, just because this is how you heal doesn't make it wrong or you weird. You went through hell, it makes sense you would find your own way back from that fire. It doesn't make it wrong and smiling definitely isn't a fucking sin, you should do it as often as you like and you will. You’re strong, you’re a fighter. This won't keep you down, and you heal however the hell you want to, don't let anyone make you feel bad about that—not even yourself. Now come on, let's get you dressed before he comes back in here and glares until you do. He’s been waiting to show you around for days,” Archel asserts and drops his finger from my face, leaving a burning sensation in his wake like I can still feel him there.
“I guess I never really asked where we are,” I joke, but it feels strange to do so.
“Well you are about to find out, come on.” He stands up and grabs my hips. I help by pushing myself up and he catches me against his chest when my weak, wobbly legs nearly give out. I breathe through it, trying to ignore the pins and needles tingling in my limbs from disuse. I guess I got used to Archel carrying me everywhere and a small part of me will miss that.
“I can dress myself,” I state, and once he is sure I’m steady he steps back.
“Fine, but I’m not leaving the room. Get the fuck over it.” He grins as he leans back against the wall, making me roll my eyes. I think he might even be more stubborn than me.
“Pervert,” I mutter and he laughs.
“Wouldn’t that be stalker?” he quips, and my lips twitch.
“True, how did you find me?” I inquire, as I reach towards the end of the bed and grab the loose fitting pants Simon brought me the other day. I can’t get jeans over my legs yet, so it’s just easier to wear these.
“Stalking you, of course,” he teases, as I bend over and slip my good leg in the pants. I frown when I try and lift the other, the struggle is real and I feel like I'm about to fall over.
“Stubborn woman,” he mutters, before striding over and sitting at my feet. I lay my hand on his shoulder as he helps lift my foot and place it in the pants. Then he drags them over my thighs and settles them on my hips.
“Seriously, how did you find me?” I repeat and he looks up, his hands still framing my hips but I’ve got used to him touching me.
“I was on my way back home when I saw the lights from the truck. Figured I would see what idiot had wandered too far,” he explains harshly, his mouth twisting and his eyes darkening, obviously remembering how he found me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, looking deep into those eyes so he can see how much I mean it.
“You’re welcome Princess, now come on.” He stands up and I decide to leave Archel’s shirt, which I am wearing, on. I won't be winning any fashion awards, but I feel comfortable and having his scent so close is helping me.
Sighing, I grab his hand and walk towards the door of the hut. It’s slow going but my leg doesn't hurt as much as it should, and it feels good to stretch and walk again.
When I stick my head out the door I see an impatient looking Simon, so I step out into the warm midday air, with Archel, or my shadow as Simon and the others have started calling him, right behind me.
“Come on, we have missed dinner so it should be quiet as the men head out for guard duty and the others will be doing the chores for the day,” he says gruffly, his hands on his hips.
I nod and step next to him, he looks down and nods in return before he starts walking. When he realises I can’t keep up with his big strides, he slows right down and walks next to me, until I am framed in the middle of them both.
My hut, or what I had claimed as my hut, was apparently a new structure constructed a little higher up than some and away from most. A dirty path, with trees on either side, led down the slope to the middle of the camp then out to other huts. The hut I was staying in made me feel safe, and I was leaving that behind now and I was very aware of this.
Looking over my shoulder, I eye my new home sadly. It’s not much from the outside, and inside it’s just two rooms—a bedroom/living room and a bathroom. The hut is built from wood with a cut out window and a hand carved door, which is propped open, begging me to come back and hide in its depths. The mountain towers behind it, touching the sky, and it takes my breath away every time I see it. It’s a beautiful place, that's for sure. The last oasis in the world, at least that's what Archel called it and he might be right.
Turning back, I make my way down the dirty path through the trees, gripping Archel to prevent myself from falling. Simon remains by my side the entire time and I decide to ask some of the questions circling in my brain.
“I know we are in the mountains and I know you are called The Forgotten, but why have I never heard of you?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the ground so I don't fall.
“Heard much about things out here, have you?” Simon counters, looking down at me.
“Well, no, but I heard about the clans and I have explored—wait, out here?” I sputter, stopping and staring at him.
He grins at me. “I used to live in Paradise, in fact most people here did. That’s why we are called The Forgotten. We left and never looked back, some come from other clans and we made a life here—forgotten from the rest of the world and the other clans. We just want peace.” He starts walking again, forcing me to move even as shock courses through me.
“You were from Paradise and you left? My parents did the same, but apparently they died,” I inform him sadly. I can feel Archel watching me, no doubt storing everything he is learning about me away.
“I am sorry about that Pip
er, not everyone makes it. Ferals, clans, and raiders pick off anyone they can find.” He eyes me sadly. “Not to mention Paradise Captains and guards themselves,” he adds.
“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to catch his eye.
He blows out a breath and turns, stopping and blocking my path. “Look kid, I know it was Paradise guards who attacked you, Shadow here told me. You think you are the only one? They don't like people leaving and they make sure they stop it if they can—even killing people if they have to. Women? They attack them and kill them. If they can’t have us, no one can. Some of us managed to slip by, using friends or skills we learned, but others weren't so lucky. That's why there are a lot more men here than women, they don’t let them go. Ever.” He eyes me and I swallow hard.
“I didn't know,” I whisper.
“Of course you didn’t. Most people in Paradise don’t. It starts at the top, but only a select few are part of their kill squad. The rest are just as innocent as you and I. They hide a lot down in that bunker.”
I search his face for answers. “So, why did you leave?”
He grunts, the sound so similar to Jago that I stumble back into Archel.
“I was one of the doctors down there, they started asking me to go on patrols and supply missions. I was young and stupid so I agreed. I wanted to know what it was like out here. The missions...they showed me the truth of the guards and people. Greed, and the things they did. I couldn't stand by and watch that happen, I was a doctor for fuck’s sake. I promised to do no harm, and they made me. I couldn't do that. So, I got a few like-minded people and on the next mission we volunteered to check out a building, and we escaped and never looked back. We stumbled across the Wastes for a while before we found this place—and the people already here. People just wanting peace, it seemed right so we stayed.”
We start walking again and the smell of roasting meat and fire reaches me as I hear voices. It sends a spike of panic through me but I force it down. “You are the leader of The Forgotten?” I question instead, concentrating on speaking.
